Lose Control Book 1
by katielovessherlockandloki
Summary: Agent Clint Barton has a mission; find and kill Breanne Walker. She's a deadly assasian and spy and must be taken care of immedietly. But, what if Clint and Bree have a spark? Can Clint fulfill his task? Bree's my OC! T for possible future chapters
1. Prolouge

PROLOUGE

Special Agent Clint Barton stood at attention in a small, dark office at headquarters. He was getting his next assignment already, which was quicker than he imagined. He shifted slightly, he had been ordered to report here and so far, he was alone. His previous mission, to stop an attack on a German senator, had been successful, making him famous throughout headquarters. He had only two days of break till he was ordered to report back.

Suddenly, a computer screen came to life, and the director's voice came on the intercom.

"Hello, Agent Barton."

Clint nodded a hello, still in position.

"At ease, Agent. I'm guessing you already know why you're here." The director's voice said through the speakers on the ceiling.

Clint relaxed; thankful he didn't have to hold that stupid position for so long. "Yes, sir. A new assignment, if I am correct?"

"Yes, and I know you've only had two days leave, but this is an important mission. We have tracked down a spy, her name is Breanne Walker, a.k.a 'Shadow Huntress'. She's a part of a Russian espionage, as far as we know." A profile popped up on a large screen. A woman's face appeared, it didn't seem very threatening, but Clint had been trained to not be deceived. She was beautiful, with dark, almost black, long hair, deep green-ish hazel eyes, and pale, flawless skin. It wasn't a good shot though, since her head was bent slightly to stop her face from being fully revealed.

"Where is she planning to go?" Clint says, studying her profile intently. She is wanted in two, no four other countries for theft, aiding fugitives, spying, etc.

The director sighs, "Moscow, Russia. A perfect place, she's making it a public event, it'll be harder to eliminate her."

Clint nods, "I've had worse."

"So, you know what to do then?" the director says, his voice heavy with fatigue

"Good, you'll be setting out tonight. Good luck, Agent Barton."

"Yes, sir."

And the intercom cut off.

Clint sighs, crossing his arms, looking back at the picture of the intriguing, and somewhat mysterious Breanne Walker.


	2. Part 1

PART 1

Breanne Walker, or, Bree, as she liked to call herself, walked into the extravagant room. It was fancy, with intricate designs on the walls, gold curtains, and pure mahogany furniture. It was all a mixture of dark brown, gold, and white.

Bree sighs, turning to face the old butler who carried her bags inside of her room, placing them on the pristine white carpet.

"Will that be all, ma'am?" he says in Russian.

Bree nods and smiles fakely, "Yes, thank you." She replies, turning back to the room. She heard the door shut and exhales. She walks to the coat rack, slipping off her beige trench coat and slung it over one of the hooks. Besides her coat, she was wearing a dark red dress that flattered her figure. She had a simple black belt around the waist to give it another color. Her dark hair was up in a neat ponytail, not a single hair out of place.

She sighs, looking around the large room. Tonight was when she had to work, do the plan. But, she was warned about an agent. An agent… Clint Barton, right? She didn't really think much about it, but she knew one thing for sure. He was _cute. _But rather than that, and few other minor things, she brushed it off.

She walks to the window, looking out. Many other people, mostly couples who looked extremely rich, were going into the same hotel as her. _They must be attending the party tonight, also._ Bree thought. That's when she spotted him.

Agent Clint Barton.

He was wearing a prim, and quite dashing black suit, like the other men. He was alone, to what it seemed like. He glances up, almost knowing she was watching him. She looks away, so maybe tonight would be a little harder than planned. She turns, going to a black, sleek suit case. She picks it up and sets it on the bed and opened it. Resting inside in their cases were several firearms. Mostly handguns, a few knives, and one shotgun. There was a lot of ammunition, so no wonder it was heavy.

She picks up one, her favorite, the Walther P-22. She lifts up her leg, pulling back the skirt. She slipped on a band and the gun in a small holster. She let her leg stand straight and the skirt fell, completely concealing the gun.

She smirks, she would give Clint Barton a night he wouldn't forget, and that he might not make through.


	3. Part 2

PART 2

The party had only begun a mere few minutes ago, and there were people already buzzing around with excitement. Clint, who went by the name Jack Howard here, was talking with a few prestigious representatives of a large business he had no interest in. He was wearing a simple suit, but it was graceful, black and sleek. He glances around; he had a small, concealable gun in his jacket.

Bree walks into the glamorous ballroom, wearing a long, black dress. It was slightly poofy in the skirt, and it reached her ankles. It was strapless, except for a black strip that went over her shoulder and wrapped around and down her arm. She had on a few diamond rings on her fingers, and diamond barrettes in her long, curly hair that hung on her shoulders. She had on a little bit of dark makeup, making her green eyes stand out even more.

When Clint first saw her, he couldn't possibly kill her. She looked like an angel, she was beautiful. He snapped out of it, _No, it's just an illusion. She's a cold-blooded killer, Clint. Snap out of it. _He thought to himself.

The woman, whom he was talking to with her husband, looks over at her and smiles. "Ah, Jack, I would like you to meet Katerina Fallon. Katerina, this is Jack Howard." Priscilla smiles, and looks at them.

Bree smiles, extending a hand. "Pleasure, Mr. Howard."

He fakes a smile, although it turned to a genuine one. "Please, the pleasure's all mine. And call me Jack, I insist." He takes it and kisses the top of it lightly.

"Mr. Howard- I mean, Jack, owns a few diamond mines in the mountains. And Katerina is an heir to about a million dollars from her grandfather." Priscilla says, holding onto her husband, Paul's, arm.

Clint raises an eyebrow, "Oh does she? Well, I'm sure she's very happy about that."

"And you must be lucky to find your own diamond mine." Bree smiles.

Priscilla glances at them and smiles. "Well, Paul and I will be off to greet some others. Have fun you two." She winks and walks off with Paul.

Clint and Bree stood for a second, sizing each other up, using every bit of knowledge they knew from training to try and deduct each other.

Suddenly, Clint says, "Would you like to dance?" he smiles lightly.

Bree fakes a smile, showing her pearly white teeth. "Of course." She takes his hand and they walked to the floor. They turned to each other, and Clint wrapped an arm around her waist, the other gripping her right hand, instinctively pulling her closer. Bree grips his hand back, placing her hand on his shoulder.

As the music wafted through the room, they danced with each other gracefully. They fit with eachother, like a puzzle piece. Except that they knew that only one of them was going to get to see another day.


	4. Part 3

PART 3

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, they parted ways. Clint and Bree still kept a watchful eye on each other, until Bree disappeared. Clint was searching for her, but it was difficult with this many people.

Bree walked down the large, ornate, deserted hallway. She looks around, and finally finds the room she was looking for. She glances around before slipped on a glove and took a bobby pin out of her hair. She unlocks the door and opens it, slipping inside. She put the pin back in her hair and walked inside, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Clint finally realized she wasn't in the room and walked out. There were so many possibilities as rooms she could be in. He turns, walking to the west wing, hoping she was somewhere in there.

She walks over to a large computer, typing in a password carefully and gaining access. Her back was to the door so she glances back before starting her work. She types on the keyboard and pulls up a few files that her boss needed. She pulls out a large diamond barrette and pulls off the top, exposing it as a USB drive. She carefully inserts it into the side of the computer. A small wirring began as the files started to download, an estimate of 3 minutes. She sighs, wishing it would be faster. She taps her foot impatiently silently on the hardwood floor.

Clint checked a few rooms till he found the one. There were a few scratches on the lock, meaning it had been broken into. He glances around before slipping out his gun. He grips the door knob lightly, and opens the door.

Bree whirls around, reaching under her dress and pulling out her P-22, pointing it at the intruder. Before her or Clint knew it, they were each holding each other at gunpoint.

"So you know who I am?" Bree says, gripping the gun tightly.

He nods, his gun also raised. He took a step inside. "Yes."

She cocks the gun, "Don't come any closer." She says firmly.

"Hey, I just want to shut the door for privacy." He says casually, shutting the door slowly.

"So you also know who I am?" Clint says as the door clicks shut.

She nods, "Yes, Agent Barton."

"Then can we talk about this like civilized people?" he says cautiously. He lowered his gun slightly, as a sign of good faith.

Bree hesitated, but she slowly lowered the gun, as did Clint.

"I'm supposed to kill you." He starts.

"I'm aware of that."

"But, if you stop all this now, and you come quietly, I'll arrange something less.. harsh for your punishment."

Bree tilts her head to the side, her eyes narrowing. "And if I don't?"

"Then you leave me no choice." He says.

Bree noticed he was actually telling the truth. He didn't want to kill her, but she knew if she didn't get these files to her boss, he would hunt her down and kill her. The weight of both sides was killing her.

She takes a deep breath, "I'm sorry, Agent Barton, but I came here with a job I intend to finish."

She raised the gun and fired a shot, causing Clint to drop to his knees. He grabs his gun, pointing it at her and pulled the trigger. She narrowly dodges it and it lodged itself into the bookcase beside her. She yanks out the drive and put back on the top, dropping it down her dress.

She shot at Clint again, and he rolls to the side, sitting against the oak desk. She ran towards the door and he fired a shot. It hit right in the spot, on the doorknob, sealing her in. She yanks at it but it was no use. She glares back at him, raising the gun and shot. It was off, lodging into the desk or floor, even the walls.

After several shots, they ran out of ammo. Clint was still positioned behind the desk, and Bree was behind a fall table on its side.

They both stood up simultaneously, they looked at each other. Clint had taken off his jacket during the fight, and his pristine white dress shirt now had gun powder on it lightly, and it had a few rips in the arms. Bree was slightly different. Her hair was slightly disheveled, but still perfect to Clint. She had a few scratches on her arm and small blotches of gunpowder on her fingers.

They just stood, looking at eachother from across the room for a few minutes. The room was mostly destroyed, nothing really intact.

"How about we talk about this like civilized people?" Bree says, tossing her empty gun to the side.

Clint's jaw tightened, but he nodded, "Agreed." He sets his gun to the side.

Bree smiles, "Then come, we'll speak in my room."


	5. Part 4

Part 4

Bree walks into her room, sighing. "Well, I must say Agent Barton, they trained you well." She says, walking to the closet.

Clint walks inside, looking around. "As with you, Agent Walker."

Bree pulls down a zipper on the back of her dress, pulling it down. Clint averted his eyes in respect, but Bree carried on like it was nothing.

"So, your boss wants me dead?" she says, stepping out of the dress, now only in her black under garments and black tights. She picks it up and sets it back in the wardrobe.

"That's classified." He says, finding his voice after a few seconds. She turns and looks at him, leaning against it.

"I think we're above classified now, don't you think, Clint?" she says, raising an eyebrow. "Besides, it's not really me your boss wants… it's this." She pulls out the hair pin USB from her bra, holding it up.

He looks at her, trying to keep his eyes level with hers. "That, and you gone." He says, his eyes flickering down slightly.

She giggles, setting the USB drive on the wooden table. "It's alright to stare, Barton. That's what happens." She says, turning back to the wardrobe and riffling through it.

His eyes trailed down her, she had no weapons, not even a knife. Only her holster around her leg was empty since she already used her gun.

She sighs, "Well, can't find it." She says, standing straight. Clint's eyes met hers again, "Find what?"

"My robe, the maid must've taken it." Bree says, irritated. "Oh, well, we can still talk, right?" she says, walking to the bar and pouring herself a drink.

"Uh, no- I mean, yes, of course." He stammers. He was a trained agent, trained to withstand anything and everything, and now a single woman was making him jittery? What the hell is wrong with him?

She nods, "Good, maybe we can work something out." She turns, sipping her drink. She gestures to the many bottles of wine and alcohol sitting, unopened. "Want anything?"

He shakes his head, "No, I don't drink on the job." He says, standing still.

Bree laughs, "That's right, you CIA operatives are much more uptight." She says, leaning against the counter and taking another sip.

"So, about this… compromise." Bree says after a moment of silence. "How about… you let me go? And say you lost me and the files." she says.

Clint laughs, "Sorry, but no. I have to take you and the files, orders are orders."

She rolls her eyes, "My employer needs these files, and he would kill me if I didn't return them."

"Well, that would be inconvenient." Clint says, his eyes going down her scantily clad body again.

She tilts her head to the side, setting her drink aside, "Are you checking me out, Agent Barton?" she says teasingly.

His eyes snapped up when he realized what he was doing. "No, just making sure you weren't armed." He lies.

She smiles, walking over to him. "You know… the people they send after me aren't as cute as you." She says, tilting her head to the side, running her hand up his arm lightly.

"And some of the women I go after aren't as… intriguing as you." He says, looking down at her.

She smiles, batting her eye lashes lightly, "Oh, I'm flattered." She says, playing with his tie with her fingers.

He stood, stiff, watching her. He knew what she was doing, she was manipulating him, toying with him. But he didn't stop her, not knowing why.

Before he knew it she had his jacket and tie off. She was still standing, studying him with her deep hazel eyes. She looks at him, a small smile playing on her lips. She leans up, and it wasn't very far since she had heels on, and kissed him.

He shuts his eyes, slowly kissing back, not knowing what this would cost the both of them, or the events that were yet to come.


	6. Part 5

Bree stepped out of her car, shutting the door and slinging her bag over her shoulder. She took out her phone, looking through the messages. She's seen a few from Agent Barton, and one from an unknown number. It read;

**Do not try to run from us. **

She put the message, along with the ones from Barton in her trash file. She walks into a small diner, then her phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID before answering.

"Hello?" she says, slowing her pace to get to a table.

"Hello, Breanne Walker." A voice said on the other line.

"What do you want?"

"You know exactly what I want. And you failed to get it."

"I'm sorry, I was out skilled." She says lowly.

"Out skilled? By a petty S.H.E.I.L.D. agent! You were trained much better than that, Breanne, you and I both know that." He growls on the other end.

"Goodbye, Mr. Falcone." She says, about to hang up.

"Mark my words, Shadowhuntress, I will find you and make you pay." He hisses.

She rolls her eyes and pulls the phone away, pressing 'END CALL'. But as soon as she did, an explosion went off and exploded her car, breaking the glass and sending Bree flying across the room, falling on a few tables.

People screamed and dropped to the floor, covering their heads from the glass. Some people looked like they were knocked out, and some people had blood on their clothes or heads. Bree rolls onto the floor, three cuts from the glass going across her cheek, and her hair was messed up, with a few pieces of glass clinging to it. She turns on her back, feeling a few pieces of broken glass piercing through her jacket. She winces, sitting up. Her ears were ringing from the explosion, and her eyesight was slightly off, everything blurry. She grabs her phone, seeing cuts on her hands and up her arms from the glass.

She heard shouting and screaming and gunfire. She struggled to look up, and her phone was kicked out of her hands. She felt someone above her, and she knew they were smirking. Whoever it was picked her up by her throat, pulling her up. She gasped, gripping their wrist.

"Well, well, well, how could a pretty girl like you cause so much trouble for Mr. Falcone? Not much of problem now, are you?" he says. She kicks her feet at him feebly, but she was losing air.

"You… you'll regret this, bastard." She chokes. He laughs, shaking his head.

"Shut it, bitch." He says and drops her on the ground again. Her head hit the edge of a table and she fell into blackness.


	7. Part 6

It had been thirty minutes since Clint had figured out about the explosion and abduction at a small-town diner. He had been running a GPS he had planted in Bree's phone, and thankfully she didn't take it out.

He had his car pulled to the side of the road, woods on both sides. He was leaning against his car, holding his laptop, trying to find Bree's signal. He's tried contacting his boss but he hasn't responded. He finally got Bree's signal, she was on her way down a barren road. He walked back to his car, sliding inside and putting the computer on the dashboard, starting his GPS to follow the signal.

Then it hit him. She knew he had planted that bug because she knew she was being followed. And, she knew he would look for her signal so he would come and find her. That's when he knew that this might be bigger than he or she had imagined.

He started his car and sped down the road. He knew that if he went after her, and saved her, he could possibly lose his job. But it would be worth it if it would mean saving Bree.

He pulled to a stop in the woods and slid out, taking two hand guns with him. He had one in one hand, and the other was in a holster. He kept to the side of the road, hidden in the trees. He followed a dirt road till he saw a building with men crawling everywhere with machine guns and pistols.

He sighs, glancing around before running across the way and ducked behind a car. He looks over his shoulder, seeing a guard coming his way. He saw a door leading inside, but it was shut. He had to find out how to get inside, but he would have to take out this guy first.

As the guy past him he snuck up behind him and hit him in the back of the head with the butt of his gun. He fell to the ground with a thump and Clint glances around before walking back to the door. He saw that it was password protected, so he took out his phone. He connected it with a cord and it ran all the possibilities for passwords and processed them all out till it found the right one. There was a beep and a green flash, then the door opened.

He put the cord in his jacket pocket along with his phone, then made his way down the hallway, sticking to the walls and shadows.

He made his way through the building, having to knock out a few guards along with way. He continued to follow Bree's signal on his phone, and he was getting closer and closer. He thought that if this building wasn't such a maze, he would be there already. He jogged up a staircase, hearing voices. He curses to himself, loading his gun, preparing for the fight that was yet to come.


	8. Part 7

Bree began to float back to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, and she held her head straight. Her hands were bound to the arms of the wooden chair, and her jacket and guns were taken from her. All she was in now was her tight black dress and black heels. She was in an empty room, with iron walls, and a metal ceiling and floor.

She looks around, her hair hanging in her face loosely.

"Hellooo?" she sings, shifting in her seat slightly.

Suddenly, the door facing her opened, and a man walked inside. She raises an eyebrow,

"Where's Falcone? I thought he would have wanted to see this personally. Plus, I was looking forward to seeing him." She pouts, tilting her head to the side.

"Falcone is no longer in business. He was caught, by the Gotham city… police." The man in the suit said.

"But more on that later, Shadowhuntress." He says, walking towards her.

"Where are the files, hm? The ones Falcone wanted." He leans towards her, his face inches from hers. She could smell the alcohol in his breath and aftershave on his skin.

"I… lost them. You will probably never see them." She says and smirks.

"Lies!" he shouts and smacks her across the face, making her head jerk to the side. She didn't even wince, and she barely felt the pain, for she had had much worse done to her. He grabbed a fistful of Bree's long black curls, yanking her head back.

"Tell me where they are." He hissed. She opened her eyes, hearing shouting and fighting outside of the room. Her eyes shifted to him then she head-butted him in the forehead. He stumbles back, groaning, clutching his forehead. She turns around, swinging the chair around and hit him in the legs, sending him down. She did a backflip and the chair broke once it crashed onto the man's body. She stands up, pushing back her hair, breathing heavily as she looked down at the man's unconscious body.

"Not today." She pants, whirling around as the door slammed open. Barton walks inside, carrying two guns.

"About time you got here." She says, smirking. He rolls his eyes, tossing her a gun and she caught it.

"Let's get out of here." He says, and she nods.

"Couldn't agree more." She huffs.


	9. Part 8

Clint and Bree raced down the hallway, gripping their guns tightly.

"We're close to the exit!" Clint shouts over his shoulder. She nods, then her eyes widen.

"Clint! Watch out!" she shrieks. Clint turns and ducks just in time before a bullet whizzed past his head and jammed into the wall. Bree shot at the shooter and hit his leg, making him fall. She runs over and kicks the gun out of his hands then slams him in the head with her gun, knocking him out.

"Bree!" Clint yells, shooting at a man that was about to attack Bree. The man falls and Clint was about to run towards Bree until he felt someone behind him. She stands up, whirling around, she ran at Clint then jumped over him, knocking down a man that was behind him, taking his gun from his hands then slamming him head first against the wall.

Bree and Clint turned, looking at eachother, breathing heavily.  
"Ready?" Clint says. Bree nods and they set off again.

They finally reached the outside when Bree glanced at Clint's watch on his wrist. She curses to herself, glancing around.

"Come on!" she yells, grabbing his wrist and pulling him along. They were about a few yards away when the building exploded. They both flew across the road, hitting the pavement. Clint struggled over to Bree and covered her as debris began to fall from the sky.

Bree lifts her head, meeting Clint's eyes. He was breathing heavily, as was she.

"You alright?" he says, still over her protectively. She nods,

"You?" Clint nodded and sat up, as did Bree.

"Well, don't think I'll need this anymore." She says and reaches down in her dress and pulls out a small memory chip from her bra. She tosses it aside.

He laughs, "So you knew I bugged your phone?" she nods.

"After I knew, I took out the GPS and put it somewhere they wouldn't look. I knew you would follow, so…" she shrugs.

He rolls his eyes and stands up. He extends his hand and she takes it. He pulls her to her feet and they walked towards Clint's car not far away.

"So, what happened to your boss? Is he still on your tail?" Clint says, putting his hands in his pockets.

She shakes her head, "No, he's gone, for good, I think. Cops got him back at his hometown."

He nods, "Where will you go now?" He says, stopping beside his car.

She sighs, "I don't know yet, I have some unfinished business in a certain city I have to attend to… and I might return to New York after I'm done there." She shrugs. "I really have no idea."

He laughs and nods, "Well, if you ever do get to New York, look me up. I'll be waiting for you." He smiles.

She sighs, "Clint, you know we can't be together. We just… can't. You will always be the one hunting me, and I will always be running."

"But maybe you can change that, you can get a normal life-" Clint began, but she cut him off.

"No, I can't go back. I just… can't. I don't think I ever will be able to have a normal life. That's why I don't want you to wait for me." She says, meeting his eyes.

He looked into her eyes, but then looked down, knowing he was defeated. He nods slowly.

She sighs, placing her hand on his cheek lightly. "Maybe someday, but not today, not tomorrow, just someday." She whispers.

He nods, meeting her eyes again. He sighs, and then pulls her close, kissing her passionately. Bree was surprised at first, but then slowly closes her eyes, kissing back. After a few seconds Bree pulls away slowly. She opens her eyes, her fingertips trailing his cheek lightly.

"Till we meet again." She whispers and pulls away. He watches her with sad eyes, but nods. He smiles lightly, waving slightly. She smiles assuringly and turns as a car pulls up. She opens the door and looks at Clint one last time, and smiles, before climbing inside and shutting the door.

"Where to, miss?" the driver says.

She takes a deep breath, shifting her shoulders slightly.

"To Gotham City, as quick as possible."

_**Author's Note:**_

_**Thank you so much for reading! This is possibly the first "book" of 'The Bree Walker Chronicles'. I'm thinking of making a sequel, to show what Bree might be up to in Gotham… what do you think? Review, favorite, and become a fan! 3**_

_**-K**_


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